


Dance With Me

by thekingslover



Category: How to Get Away with Murder
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-15
Updated: 2014-11-15
Packaged: 2018-02-25 10:42:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 441
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2618846
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thekingslover/pseuds/thekingslover
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Connor holds out his hand. “Dance with me.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dance With Me

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on my tumblr coliver sideblog 'monicashipscoliver'. Enjoy!

Connor holds out his hand. “Dance with me.”

Oliver laughs and rolls his eyes. “Yeah, right.” He doesn’t believe him. They’ve been having a lot of that problem lately.

Connor’s patient though. He keeps his hand out. He’ll wait forever if he has to. Oliver’s worth it. Oliver’s worth everything.

Oliver sobers. His smile slips. Good, it wasn’t a real one anyway. It was one of those fake _please don’t fool me again, Connor_ smiles. One of those _I_ _'ll laugh until it stops hurting_ smiles. Oliver shouldn’t have need of those anymore.

Connor won’t hurt him again.

Oliver’s lips part. “You’re serious?”

"Dance with me," Connor says again.

 _Finally_ , Oliver reaches out and places his hand in Connor’s. Connor curls his finger, locking their palms together.

Connor pulls him out onto the dance floor. Some of Oliver’s co-workers stop talking to glance at them. There aren’t many other couples dancing. Frankly, this Christmas party for Oliver’s work has been a total bust so far.

Connor’s about to make it a hell of a lot better.

Having Oliver in his arms makes everything better.

Connor leads, and Oliver easily falls in sync. They’ve had a lot of practice moving together without their clothes in the way. Connor thinks he might be able to read Oliver’s body better than even Oliver can.

And Oliver, his.

With one hand on the small of Oliver’s back and the other clutching his hand, Connor leans close. He presses his cheek against Oliver’s. The edge of Oliver’s glasses press into his skin, but Connor’s not about to move away.

"I’ve missed this," Connor says in a breath. He doesn’t need to speak loudly, with his mouth so close to Oliver’s ear.

"We’ve never danced before."

Connor smiles. “I meant you. Us.”

Oliver’s smiling too; his cheek pushes into Connor’s.

"When we work, we work," Oliver says.

"Understatement."

Oliver pulls away, just slightly, and Connor can see those kind, soft eyes, hidden behind those round glasses. Connor _loves_ those glasses.

"Then how would you say it?" Oliver asks.

"When I’m with you…" Connor licks his lips. This is too important to mess up. "I want to be a better person. I want to be the kind of man you deserve."

"Connor." Oliver’s eyes soften even further. His grip tightens on Connor’s shoulder.

"You should kiss me now," Connor says, because if he keeps looking at the adoration radiating off of Oliver’s every feature, he might burst with how good this all feels. He wants to kiss instead. He wants to have, and hold.

He wants to love.

"Okay," Oliver says and kisses him.

Holds him.

Loves him.


End file.
